TWENTY-TWO

Smoke

It took all night for Kyle to calm Tameka down. Even though she’d put up a good front to maintain some composure in Xelan’s presence, especially with Razor and Triss flaunting their history with Xelan, Kyle could see the frustration mounting. They convinced Tameka to listen about the nacre restraints.

No, Razor didn’t have a nacre, but in order to infuse his consciousness into his new body, they had to disseminate his temporary nacre into his bones. And everything that was programmed into it went along for the ride.

Location-based restraints. Volition protocols, so he’d respond to Shadow commands. The works.

Triss was still only a Lyrik, so the nacre-deterring shields would work fine to detain her.

After Tameka was satisfied, she’d hauled Xelan’s oblivious ass back to the stronghold. All the while letting everyone in the room know it was so they could have extensive, mind-blowing sex.

Razor tipped his top hat at Tameka as she left, and everyone in that lab but Xelan knew it meant ‘challenge accepted.’ Maybe the suit was too tight in the crotch and twisted the Pain Curator’s panties because it was downright stupid to piss Fury off.

Anyway, that’s how Kyle found himself giving Andrew, Lucas, Razor, and Triss a tour of the rehab facilities. “There’s twenty-two gyms, sixteen pools, fourteen movie theaters stocked with all the fixings. Not to mention all the apartments are modifiable to suit your personality. We don’t care what you wear, and Lucas can get you some clothes that fit.” Kyle stopped outside of the apartment and faced his party. “The point is, we want you comfortable and asserting your personality. Individual identity matters in here.”

Triss, red feathers and yellow eyes, peered at Kyle with something alien in her expression. It’d been on her face since they’d resurrected her. Kyle wasn’t sure what it was or if she was hiding her thoughts, but it was utterly unnerving.

Razor, on the other hand, looked pleased and amicable.

Kyle didn’t like it.

Lucas opened the door to the first apartment. It wasn’t a monk’s penitent cell. Everything was top of the line and meant to meet all their reformist’s needs. They filed inside, with Razor and Triss leading the way. The former checked everything—the temperature of the water from the faucets, the selection of foods in the pantry, even the thread-count of the sheets. No doubt none of it lived up to Razor’s standards, but it was certainly better than he deserved.

As if Razor had heard Kyle’s thoughts, he turned and gave an appreciative smile. “Thank you, Mr. Roberts.”

“Story Taker, if you don’t mind.” Kyle hated the title, but some formality seemed necessary here.

All Razor did was open his arms, and Triss went into them like a magnet to iron. At least he held her with adoration naked in his bizarre eyes and not like she was a possession.

Silence taught Kyle if there was love, then there was hope. Yeah, yeah. That was some huggy Shadow shit, but the evidence was hard to refute. Looking over at Andrew and Lucas as living examples cemented the belief in Kyle.

He would reform Razor and Triss.

Kyle gestured toward the eastern wall, saying, “So the apartment next door is for Triss, but I suppose you two won’t be needing it.”

They shook their heads simultaneously without looking away from Kyle.

“Didn’t think so.”

Lucas said, “I’ll bring some clothes for you both tomorrow.”

Triss, suited in her Lyriki armor, didn’t seem to mind, but Razor beamed with gratitude while displaying the shortness of his sleeves.

Silence grinned, and it seemed to melt Razor as much as it melted Kyle. To the couple who’d coined vice, Silence said, “Behave.”

Triss said her first words in an hour. “Yes, Mother.”

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Beside Kyle, Andrew did that uncomfortable shift thing again. Like he was getting some readings off the Pain Curator and his acolyte, but wasn’t sharing.

Later.

Kyle wanted to go home, shower with Silence, and get some sleep before another big Shadow day—In like three hours. As if on cue, T.a.o. flitted into the room. There was something to be said about the way Razor’s demeanor changed in her presence. All the threat breathed out of him, and everything about him softened like room temperature butter.

“We are beyond midnight. The light comes soon.” T.a.o. opened a conduit and held out her hand. To Razor, she said, “Tomorrow, you’ll meet your soul, and it harbors a surprise.”

Razor dipped his head to her. “Thank you.” He faced Lucas. “And you, One. I will not forget this.”

Kyle warned, “Oh, you might change your mind tomorrow. Nox will be here to fetch you in the morning for the first experience.”

The Pain Curator’s eyes widened a little, and Triss answered for him, “We are ready to accept your price.” For now lingered in the air.

Yup.

This was a bad idea.

Silence and Kyle spent a wonderful three hours overly involved with each other. ‘Worship’ didn’t cover it. They built the temple and burned it down with the heat between them.

It was forced to end entirely too soon.

“I’ll meet you there once I finish with Nox’s treatment and get Razor and Triss started with theirs.” Kyle hated the way Silence’s face fell when he mentioned Nox’s punishment. He smoothed aside the blue streak of her hair, dampened from their exertions, and kissed her forehead. “There was a time, not even a year ago, when I would’ve enjoyed this position of power. Derived sadistic satisfaction from it—” Kyle shook his head, discarding the notion. “You make me a better person because you’re here to remind me no matter how I feel about any of these people, someone out there cares for how they’re treated. So I should, too. I hope you understand—”

Silence sat up and kissed Kyle, taking his breath away with his words.

It was a nice parting, especially when he knew they’d meet up in a few hours. Until then, Kyle traversed the labyrinth of conduits, reaching his office in the rehab facility. Hmm… Nox was already at work, filing reformists into the pods. Obviously, the invitation to today’s private Progeny event had put some perk in Nox’s step.

Kyle sighed. What the hell was going on around here? First, he helped bring back Razor, and next he was gonna hang out with Nox this afternoon.

At least Rayne was finally happy.

Over the earpiece, Kyle ordered, “Nox, we have new guests of honor. Direct rooms three-two-four and three-two-three into their corresponding pods. And Nox?”

“Yes?”

Kyle couldn’t help but smirk. “You’re in for a surprise. Over and out.”

Fuck it. Maybe there was a sadistic streak in Kyle. He pulled up the security footage of Razor and Triss’ hallway and watched Nox knock on their door. When the door opened and the hefty Icarus recoiled, Kyle chuckled. Yeah. He was an asshole, but this was entertainment even Iuo couldn’t engineer.

Nox and Razor faced one another, each with naked disdain on their faces. Lucas had been by, judging by the suit tailored perfectly to the Pain Curator’s boxer frame. It would certainly set him apart from the general population. Which in and of itself was a curiosity. How would the other reformists respond to Razor and Triss’ resurrection?

Kyle would spin it as another success story for the program. That sounded nice. The Pain Curator wasn’t the only one with marketing skills.

Without a word or any fuss, Razor and Triss followed Nox to the heart of the facility. He led them to their pods and strapped them in. This, Kyle could see from the glass view of his office. Never had he seen two people so composed strapped in those pods. He looked forward to their reactions after half a day of treatment.

Over the earpiece, Kyle said, “Good work, Nox.” Like praising a puppy for shitting outside. “Are you ready for your experience?”

“Yes.”

One-word answers.

Kyle liked it that way.

He met the massive roadblock of a man at his designated pod in Kyle’s office. Now, this was where Kyle got professional. He didn’t taunt or agitate Nox. Kyle simply strapped him in and turned on the machine.

Nox always screamed. Such was the intensity of his karma. Today was a medley of kids who’d lost their families to Invasion Day. Not all pain was physical. The mental anguish and grief of thousands should send the man responsible shrieking in misery.

Two hours later, Kyle ended the treatment. Tears had scalded Nox’s face bright blue. He didn’t wipe them away—Didn’t move at all. He laid in the pod, blinking in torment.

It was none of Kyle’s business, but Xelan had once mentioned Nox and Rayne shared a heartbeat. Kyle sometimes wondered what these treatments were like for her. She must always know when they’ve ended, because Nox always meditated after. Reflection went into the depths of eyes, reaching his soul or whatever.

Kyle left Nox to recover and went over to the glass. He zeroed-in on Razor and Triss—

“Son of a bitch…”

They were the only people not screaming. At most, they looked uneasy.

Fucking sociopaths.

Kyle would work on their experiences later, as there was a plethora of them to sample. He had more important things to attend to. “C’mon, Nox. If you take any longer, we’ll be late, and you don’t want to keep Rayne waiting.”

As Nox climbed out of the pod, Kyle called up Sagan. “Yo, we’re ready.”

The Seamswalker arrived and…

What was with these women and their big hearts?

Sagan stared at Nox with wide, sad eyes and cupped a hand over her mouth. She ignored Nox’s staving gesture and hugged the bastard. Kyle would definitely use the word ‘awkward’ with Nox. Stiffly, he patted Sagan on the back.

Against Nox’s broadside of a barn chest, Sagan asked, “Are you okay?” She glared at Kyle.

“I’m fine. Please, let’s enjoy the day.”

That summarized how Nox got through this, and Kyle had to commend him for it. Still, he rolled his eyes and walked through Sagan’s open conduit.

And into paradise.

The gorge in Yosemite park, all the Progeny and their mates, and good food.

What more could Kyle ask for?

Silence walked up to him with a plate full of his favorite food. In a string bikini.

What, indeed?